


Clean-up

by tsukinofaerii



Category: Marvel 1610 - Fandom
Genre: Gen, WWII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-03
Updated: 2009-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukinofaerii/pseuds/tsukinofaerii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve doesn't usually find himself on clean-up duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean-up

It wasn't often Captain America was on clean-up duty. Usually, he and Bucky found themselves on a transport to the next big disaster before the smoke had cleared from the last one. This time, someone had decided that it was worth a few days of his time to get a photograph of Captain America Cleaning Up After the Nazis. And so here he was, Halloween in some God forsaken town in Eastern Europe, going through downed buildings shoulder to shoulder with boys old enough to shave but not to hold their stomachs when they found a body.

The houses were small, but poorly constructed enough that they'd collapsed before the sleepers inside could escape when the attack had hit. It was ugly, punishing, endless work. For every one survivor, they found ten that were long gone.

For all of that, Steve didn't mind. It was good to do something that had immediate results for once, and even _one_ life was enough. They were coming fewer apart, though. It had been two days. By tomorrow, they'd only be pulling out corpses.

Cheers went up from the other side of the street. "Cap! Cap, get over here!" someone yelled. "We've got a live one!"

Steve finished setting down the beam he'd been holding, then went to work with the others. He lifted the heaviest pieces: parts of the slate roof, wooden beams, sections of wall—whatever would take more hands than just his otherwise. Bucky was in the group too, camera swinging around his neck as he helped the effort.

It had been a hand that they'd found first. The rest of the arm followed, bent at an angle that couldn't be anything good, and then the shoulders and back. The woman was barely breathing, and even that seemed to be taking her too much effort. Alive now, Steve knew, but she wouldn't be for long.

The medics moved in as soon as she was clear enough to shift and lifted her onto a stretcher. One of them glanced down and cursed, almost dropping his patient.

A little girl so tiny that she couldn't be more than four stared up at them from a tiny dent in the dirt. It had been barely big enough for her mother's body to cover. Dust and ash turned her skin and hair a uniform shade of murky gray except where tear tracks had washed it clean. She said one word, just one, in a language Steve didn't know. The way her eyes tracked her mother, he didn't need a translator.

Without a word, Steve scooped the girl up, taking her away from where her mother was struggling to breathe. She fought, pushing against his shoulders and screaming, but he kept walking.

Some things children shouldn't see.


End file.
